A Reflection by Sr. Nasilele Simushi, OP, Ndola CNCS Hub

I embarked on a journey to Pamuzinda Safari Lodge in Zimbabwe with my fellow Sisters, deliberately stepping away from the busy routines and familiar rhythms of daily life. The mystery of my destination, which was not yet known to me, awakened within me a spirit of openness and readiness, a willingness to explore and discover meaning in whatever lay ahead.

The adventure began as I left the city behind and ventured into the peripheries. The transition felt like the headwaters of a river, beginning small and gradually swelling in strength and significance. With each mile, the true nature of my destination began to reveal itself, not simply as a place, but as a form of nurture unfolding before my eyes.

Even the name Pamuzinda seemed to suggest a place of sanctuary, setting a tone for the experience that awaited me.

Upon arrival, I was struck by the raw, natural wealth of the landscape, teeming with both animal and plant life. My most profound observation, however, was in the scenery itself.

The trees were in a state of transition, some leaves were drying and falling, while others were rejuvenating, creating a beautiful patchwork of green and brown. It was a living metaphor for the cycles of life.

Amid the drought, a few trees remained lush, providing a vital source of food for the animals. It was an astonishing sign of the Creator’s provision, a reminder that goodness rarely disappears all at once. God, in His wisdom, has a way of preserving what is needed, even in times of scarcity.

The scattered water bodies we passed during our game drive served as similar points of life-giving refreshment, oases of calm and sustenance in the wild expanse.

Lessons from the Water

The second leg of the journey took me to the water for canoeing. Having grown up near a stream, water has never been a source of fear for me; rather, it is a familiar and welcome companion. I look forward to the simple joy of being in a canoe or a boat, even a humble banana canoe.

My childhood by the water has instilled in me a sense of resilience and trust.

While paddling, I quickly learned the delicate art of coordination with my partner. We had to be cautious, synchronising our movements to steer the canoe in the right direction. It was a lesson in humility, learning from the expert and following his lead.

More than that, I was reminded of the power of surrender: allowing myself to trust the process, enjoy the calmness of the water and remain present in the moment.

The reeds and water lilies that graced the stream were more than beautiful decorations. They demanded patience. They taught me to slow down, navigate gently and savour the fresh breeze dancing across the water.

Learning to Listen

My third adventure was perhaps the most unexpectedly charming: horse riding.

I was paired with a horse named Adel. The experience was pure delight. The instructions were simple and clear, emphasising the importance of communication and cooperation.

To guide Adel, I first had to call her name, drawing her attention. In that simple act, I experienced a profound sense of recognition and was reminded of the true significance of a name, a call to connection, relationship and mutual understanding.

Adel’s majestic and steady walk provided a sense of comfort and ease, gently reminding me to simply be, to trust and to enjoy the ride.

Throughout the park, the well-kept vegetation was a soothing balm for the soul. The gentle forms of the plants and grasses, the calm of the paved paths and the artistic designs adorning the buildings all pointed to the great talent and giftedness of the people God has placed there.

But what do all these experiences truly mean?

For me, they are a profound call to praise, an echo of the Psalms that beckon all of creation to worship.

A Call to Praise

So:

Let every creature, crawling and walking, praise the Lord.

All you elephants, zebras, giraffes, lions, horses, kudus, wild beasts, impalas and snakes, praise the Lord.

All you flying birds and those in nests, praise the Lord.

All you trees, both tall and bent, praise the Lord.

All you dried leaves and fresh leaves, praise the Lord.

All you grass and soil, bless the Lord.

All you ditches and uneven paths, praise the Lord.

All you cloudy, dark-looking water bodies, praise the Lord.

All you water creatures and water vegetation, praise the Lord.

All you owners of this place, praise the Lord.

All you workers, cleaners, tour guides and guards, praise the Lord.

All you tourists, sisters and brothers, praise the Lord.

And all you readers, praise the Lord.

Together, we offer praise and glory to God for His incomparable greatness. We join Mother Church in the enduring call of Laudato Si’, to praise God for all of creation and to care for our common home. Pope Francis’ Laudato Si’ presents creation as our common home and invites us to recognise God’s presence and beauty in the created world.https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/encyclicals/documents/papa-francesco_20150524_enciclica-laudato-si.html?utm_source=chatgpt.com

Perhaps the sacred is not always found in extraordinary moments. Sometimes, it is hidden in the ordinary, in a drying leaf, a flourishing tree, a quiet stream, a gentle breeze, a patient horse, the work of human hands or even in the simple act of calling a name.

The invitation, therefore, is to slow down, to become attentive and to allow ourselves to see.

Creation is constantly speaking. Perhaps the question is not whether God is present, but whether we have become too busy to notice.

Reflection Question

Where, in my daily routines, am I missing the divine? How can I train my eyes to see the sacred in the “gentleness of plants” and the “artistic design” of my surroundings?